Sickness
by thekoalaprincess
Summary: A demon infects Dean with a deadly virus, and Cas learns how to care for a sick friend.


Dean rolled over and groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. Today had been brutal, even for Dean, who routinely became injured in his line of work. A demon was in town, and had infected about ten percent of the inhabitants with a flu-like virus. Not enough to worry about for himself, he wouldn't let something like "the flu" put him out of commission. Well...that's what he thought yesterday. The virus had killed about half the people it infected after a couple days, he and Sammy were pretty close to ganking the thing two days ago. And then it escaped. Kissed Dean and somehow managed to overpower the both of them. Sam did some research and found that it was probably hiding in a nearby sewer, after it spread the disease.

The first day was easy. Sore throat, runny nose, slight fever. Second day seemed a little more uncomfortable, Dean's fever had risen considerably since last night, whenever he stood the room spun horribly, and he could barely speak or eat from pain. Third day...Sam and Dean had observed the patients, and it wasn't pretty. Up until the third day, the disease could be mistaken for a fairly simple disease like the flu. Sure, not pleasant, but not exactly the work of any demon. On the third day, the victim began to choke on their own blood. His or her eyes and teeth would fall out, and bite marks would be found all over the unfortunate victim's torso. The fever skyrocketed, and the infected body would be lucky...or not...to survive to the next morning. After the fourth day of the illness, it would be all over.

Dean was a little bit worried now that he'd reached the second day and Sammy hadn't just killed her. It was a female, but not a pretty body. It seemed to have rotted from the inside out, and when he saw her, Dean was almost surprised she wasn't a zombie. Repulsive that the thing had kissed him. That was probably how he got infected. He'd have to remember to tell Sam-oh. Right. He couldn't talk, dammit. Sam was out trying to kill the filthy bitch, and Dean was stuck in a dingy motel room, probably dying. Sam's hope was that if the demon died, then the infected would just go back to normal. It was a fairly logical assumption, as the demon was pulling all the controls for the illness.

Still, Dean was lonely. Not really how anyone would want to spend their last days, cooped up in a motel room with no one for company. Sam was busy, Dean knew that, but would it have killed him to make Dean a bowl of soup or get some Jello or beer or something? Dean tossed around and threw the covers off. They scratched anyway, and he was hot. The fever meds hadn't served any purpose, and he was at a solid 104.5 degrees Farenheight. It was so damned boring. At least he'd kept busy before, with the crossroads deal and the hellhounds, and he knew that if he were killed in a fight he'd go out quick...but this was agony. Dean was helpless. And so bored. The motel room had a tv, but all that was on was Oprah, and Dean couldn't stand the woman. He'd tried, but he ended up just turning the television off rather than hear her drone on about some chick-flick type novel designed to make all but the most heartless robots start sobbing.

Dean was alone and miserable without Sam or Cas there...he thought he could rely on his family to at least attend to him on his deathbed! Granted...it was likely that Sam could kill the thing without him, and Sam would never leave Dean to die alone, but still! Dean was sick and needed someone to take care of him. Cas...probably had angel stuff anyway. Dean couldn't pray out loud to him, and he didn't know if Cas would respond anyway. It was so horribly boring and quiet in that motel room though. Dean finally decided to just try to call Castiel over.

"Uh...Cas?" he thought, "Could use some help. Some demon bitch knocked me out sick with some demon virus. I don't have my voice, and Sam's out looking to kill her. Could you get your ass over here with some Jello or something? The orange kind, not that green shit."

After twenty-seven minutes, Dean had nearly given up on seeing the angel. It was alright. Sam would just kill the demon and everything could go back to normal. He'd see Cas plenty of other times. It was alright that Cas ignored him. Cas always had something to do for the angels now. As Dean explained to himself why the angel couldn't come visit him, at least for a few minutes to bring the Jello, Cas appeared next to the other bed with a paper shopping bag in tow.

"Dean, I am aware that the customs of caring for the sick include bringing hot chicken noodle soup, blankets, and a 'Get Well Card.' I have brought these items so that you will be more comfortable. I also brought the Jello you requested."

"Cas," Dean choked, immediately regretting saying anything as soon as he opened his mouth. The word stung, and his throat was on fire. Cas tilted his head a bit to the side, and squinted. Dean found him almost cute when he did that, although he'd never admit. Cas reached out and placed his fingertips at the base of Dean's throat. Dean sputtered a bit, but it felt good. It was so soothing and he decided to try to talk again.

"Thanks Cas. Now can you mojo the rest of me?"

"I was trying to. You have been infected by a demon. I cannot restore your health to its normal state. I am sorry Dean."

"It's alright Cas. Now, where's the soup?" Dean inquired of the angel who looked rather sorry for his inability to assist Dean as much as he'd like.

Cas reached into the brown paper bag and pulled out a cylindrical container full of warm chicken-noodle soup. Though considerably less dizzy than before, Dean still didn't feel well enough to sit up easily on his own. Cas walked to the bed next to Dean's, where Sam slept, and removed one of the pillows. After fluffing it, he placed it behind Dean's head and Dean started to it up to drink his soup.

"So, what about that Get Well Card?" Dean asked after about a quarter of the soup was gone.

Cas searched through the paper bag again, and came up with a rectangular envelope, which he handed to Dean. Dean opened the pale blue envelope and saw a cheesy hallmark card, the kind a grandma might get from her 5 year old grandchild, with a picture of an elephant blowing its trunk. Dean laughed a little at the illustration and flipped it open to see Cas' neat handwriting signing the bottom of the card.

"I like it. Thank you."

Cas had been looking all around the motel room, not that there was much to see. Dean smiled at the back of Cas' trenchcoat, it was just another lovable part of him. Dean had to admit, Castiel wasn't really bad to look at. The angel's inability to understand certain social customs amused him. Dean found it sweet that he had taken care to learn how to care for a sick friend. He shouldn't have doubted that the angel would come.


End file.
